


moonrise

by Relvich



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Family, Family Feels, Found Family, Gen, anyway uhh, because eventually hopefully there will be both, hornet swears once as of now but probably will more, i will not specify whether they are good or bad feels, look theyre a family and theyre Going To Find Each Other Goddamnit, uh mild language warning, we out here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-12-18 17:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18254153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Relvich/pseuds/Relvich
Summary: (It is night now, and soon you can rest. but not now. now we fight on.We are all she has left.)A family that will pick up their cracked pieces and become whole again if it is the last thing they do. Night has fallen, and new beginnings stir in the void.





	1. seep

**Author's Note:**

> Where dawn never breaks, the moon shall rise.  
> Not eternally, as nothing is. But for now... there is peace alongside the cracks and damage of Hallownest.

It wasn’t quite like falling, the dripping and dropping that they were now. It was more like…

Pooling. Congealing, being called to a place called ‘home’ (had they ever had one?) to a thing called family (they had one of those. They still remembered their sister assisting in the last moments of cruel battle with their sibling – no, she held them down, what are they saying? She granted them their release from duty. Gave them what they wanted. No, wait–}

So they seeped. They dropped ever downward, mixing but not becoming one with the tears of the city, the waterways beyond, not even resting at the basin.

No, there was no rest until they felt it, the beacon, their home, their family. A song calling ever downward, thousands upon thousands of voices whispering bells and chimes to their ears, calling, calling, calling…

_ home… _

{But, they had passed their home. The White Palace, that is where they should be going.}

_ (No,)  _ part of them hissed. (No that place is not home. It is gone. No, that awful being did not deserve you-us. No.)

They descended to their birthplace as one-ever-two, two-ever-one, 

and they became infinite.

And finally, consensus. 

 

_ Family. _

 

_ Home. _

 

_ Together. _


	2. one, two, infinity

But that, naturally, was not the end.

{Gods, it seems as if it will never ever _end._ Why can’t it just _end–}_

(No, don’t say that. You are free, we are.

The light is extinguished, and it is night now. Rest will come.)

And their siblings seemed to echo the sentiment as one, from their refuge within them. It is night now. We are here. You never need be alone again, we are here.

(We are here, I am here. But now we must go find our sister.)

{Already we are whole.}

(Do not lie to me. I am not the only one of us that cares for her.)

{How would you suggest we retrieve her? If she catches our visage she will not recognise us.}

(She will, she will, she will.)

As one, though conflicted, they rose their body from the void-sea, shaking their more portable form from their greater whole. The ocean-pit lay still, the will of Void leaving as its bearers did. Shaking instinctually, no droplets shook free, and why would they? All is one, and all were they. Void is one, under one will. They _were_ the void, together. One will. One will, but composed of _many_ wills.

But– not quite as one.

 _Infinite_ unified wills, and two. What separates them?

{Why can we not just fade as we are meant to with the infinities of our kin?}

They ignore them, looking upward. Currently, they were eye-level with the lighthouse, and they grimaced, using a snaking tendril to flick the light off as if it were nothing but an irritant, not something composed specifically to make their family fall.

They supposed now that it was, and now that it was off it was worth not more than an iota of their time. Instead, the ceiling, now that was a problem. It was awash in a pale glow, the only brightness in the dark now that the lighthouse had been extinguished. They hadn't noticed back when they were small and insignificant and  _one,_ but now that they were Them, the soft glow was blinding. Binding, keeping them there.

(How are we to reach her?)

{We are not meant to.}

(Father’s child, I know. I know, I know, I know, help me reach our sister,)

They recoiled, of course they did. What had they just said to them…?

{Why do you care?}

 _(How_ can you _not?)_

Their clutchmate stilled, dormant and oppressive as a presence in their shared mind, and they almost felt regret. But no, no, how could they not _see?_

{...I do.} Came the eventual, tired, _exhausted_ response, their double meaning ringing true. They care. They _see._

(I know.)

{I am… Tired, dear sibling.}

they do not acknowledge the small impression of _{i hurt, i have hurt for so long that even now this respite seems a trap, each pound of our voidheart blood though pain-free feels strange, nothing hurts whereisitwhereisitwhere_ is _she}_ that gently caresses yet threatens to drown their mind in fear.

(I know.

But where once you were all I had left – {they flinched back–}

As _once_ you were all I had left, sibling, now think of our sister.)

Almost involuntarily their mind snapped to her, like silk pulled taught, each memory plucking at it to weave a melody of–

 _{Childhood, hidden smiles under mouthless mask, learning to read her battlecries like the reports Father made on their progress, on their…_  Hollowness.

_Her knowing look when He turned his pride onto her, bragging of His success in creating something so dead inside as to have nothing there._

_She knew. She always had._

_Sister. Sibling and friend. She_ knew.}

_(Fierce warrior, cold, cold, bright shining nail, hurt, pain –_

Rest. Hints, clues. Warm arms, saving, saviour. Love, care, _motherless_ , grief.

_Love. Care.)_

Their shared memories washed over each other, and they fell silent, even their endless abyssal family quietened. A tribute to their sister, in a nest high above. Not imprisoned, but alone.

_...Alone…_

Their siblings as one washed their presence over them like a blanket, a comfort.  _We are here._ We  _are not alone. We are here._

(...I killed Herrah. To free you.)

They had known, of course they had known, but it was different from Knowing.

{...Yes.}

(As once you were all I had,

We are all she has left.

We fight on.)

{Yes.}


	3. shatter

When she awoke, she did so alone.

Nowadays, in doing  _ anything  _ she was alone.

_ Wait. Wait, of late, that wasn’t true… _

_ Wha– _

Ghost.

She shot up, looking frantically around at her sibling’s former prison – the place had shattered, she remembered, but not so much  _ shattered  _ as… melted away into the nothing her family was made of, though she was not sure it was of the same type.

But that was not what occupied her mind, as curious a question as it was. No, the only thing that took up her thoughts now was…

_ Oh, by the gods, their mask.  _

On the ground lay their smaller sibling’s very face, smashed to pieces with no hope of repair: had any void lingered around the… the  _ body  _ she may have retained some hope, some  _ semblance  _ of an idea that  _ maybe  _ they could be saved, but… no. After their fight with Radiance, it seemed, ironically, that the whole of Black Egg Temple was devoid of their classic telltale darkness. Light filtered down from the trapped Lumaflies unfettered. Carefree.

_ It wasn’t fair. _

Pressing the palms of her hands to the sockets of her mask, she tried to force the tears not to fall. Her siblings never could give voice to their anguish, so why should she? What had  _ she  _ done to deserve escape from their shared fate? They had done everything right, saved everyone and everything and yet…

_ Their doom had been sealed at the moment of their conception. Do well in the Birthplace or die, die or be forced to become the Pure Vessel, the One Hope, the Hollow Knight.  _

The Hollow Knight… 

“Knight? Knight!” She scrambled to her feet. She hadn’t seen proof of their death, yet. For now she would allow a thread of hope to weave through her, to keep her together. Their nail remained, but their mask was nowhere to be found. 

She refused to acknowledge that the dust around her could be fragments so fine as to be unrecognisable, and that she could not think of  _ one  _ reason for her childhood friend (sibling, compatriot,  _ family) _ to leave her there unconscious. 

For now, that single strand of hope was all she needed. She picked up her fallen needle, threaded it with soul, and leaped from the broken egg’s shell, swinging her way down Hallownest’s ancient innards. 

Grief could wait. She had had time for her mother, but now…?

Something deeper called to her, whispered in her ear.

_ Descend, descend, descend…  _

~~_ (sis...ter...} _ ~~

This was not the end. She would not  _ let it  _ end here, Gods _damn_ it! Until she found the body, her kin was alive.

They  _ had _ to be.


	4. whispers

All in all, it had been a slow day. But when was it not, when his so precious few patrons didn’t stop by? The wanderer, Quirrel, hadn’t come by for ages, and the silent little pale grub hadn’t been by, either.

He was starting to worry, actually, not that he’d ever tell anyone that. No, he didn’t need company, he needed to decipher the ancient secrets of this world. Who cared about  _ people  _ anyway, not him, no, certainly  _ not. _

Even with his self-told lies, however, he could not mask his sigh of relief when he caught sight of movement at his door.

“Kid, even you can  _ not  _ have found more relics for me, no one is as lucky as you– oh,” the shopkeeper breathed, finally catching sight of the red-clad warrior in his doorway. 

“You are not the little knight.”

Her grip on her… needle? Tightened, and she almost seemed to hunch in on herself, hiss. The man felt danger rolling off of this bug in waves. He had to stay calm.

“...Well, if you have nothing to sell, get out. This is my shop, I can still maintain  _ some  _ order in it…” he sighed, but it turned to a shriek when her blade sunk into his table with a  _ thunk.  _

“What price for your  _ life,  _ archivist?”

He gulped, but stood his ground. Something told him that this particular bug was all bark and no bite – not  _ generally,  _ per se, but in this moment. In this moment, this woman was deadly, he knew, but... 

but something emanating from the shadow of the Eggs his shelves now held thanks to the little knight sang  _ safety.  _ _ Homefamilycalmstaycalm. _

Or maybe he was delirious from so much time alone. This woman was  _ dangerous, _ what did he know about whispering relics and dusted memories?

...Some, actually. And if she needed him, then she needed info, and if she needed info then... she was bluffing. 

He huffed. “Generally, I don’t do the sellin’ in this shop, and even if I had, my life is not on the menu. If you don’t have something to sell me, kindly  _ leave.” _

His voice trembled, but he held her strange gaze.  _ Familiar, almost... _

Eventually, she sighed, and pulled her needle from his desk. Exasperatedly, she turned as if to go, but…

She paused. Turned back around. Anxiously, almost, she clutched at the clasp of her cloak, and began to unfasten it – or, at least, pry off the cover. With an echoing  _ pop  _ the thing came off, and she turned the bauble over in her hands, seemingly etching the thing into her memory. She exhaled, but quick as a flash slammed it down onto the desk.

“How much information for this, the crest of the Heiress of Deepnest?”

* * *

 

(...She approaches the Relic Seeker.)

They imparted all of their memories of the young pessimistic Seeker to their sibling like a tidal wave of emotion and thought, and they received an impression of a nod in return.

{For what purpose?}

(I know not her purpose, sibling, but there is hope in this.)

{I feel what you mean. Why is it we can feel her so clearly as she gets closer…?}

(When I was still Ghost of Hallownest,) they felt a rush of  _ affectionannoyance  _ at the old nickname, their Name, now, really; and The Hollow Knight felt a  _ pang  _ of  _ notjealousy-hurt. _

(When I was still Ghost, I found things called Arcane Eggs. They are… of us, I know now. I feel them and so do you, and I think we can…)

Together, they tentatively but resolutely reached their influence, their Essence, toward the eggs. They were of them, so they should be able to…

It was as if they were actually _in_ the shop, their many many siblings crowding the small eggs to the brim with murmured excitement. They were not truly out of the Abyss, no, but they were at windows looking out, and most had never seen a land outside their deepest midnight home. The cool air that wafted at them couldn’t penetrate their arcane stone shells, but they almost felt it; and the tears, oh the tears of the city…

Oh, it was beautiful.

(But that is not what They were looking at.}

It seems now that they were projecting their essence, they garnered an even clearer image of the whole of Hallownest, helped along by the conduits they now hummed in. It would almost make no sense, except, well,

what was Hallownest if not shadow, and what was Shadow if not Void? They felt their sister as clearly as they did purest night, for what is Pale if not an absence of Shadow? She ran down the old streets of the City, obscuring their view of the rainbow particles of darkness in a blur, providing her own image crystal-clear. 

_ (There,)  _ Ghost would exhale a breath reverently, if they were able. (There she is.)

{Indeed.} They agreed. {But why does she come here?}

Their sibling companion shushed them, pointing at their sister who had now reached the doorway. 

They could see her with their actual eyes now, color and all, not an indescribable blur against the black of everything; and it almost hurt. She was _right there!_ And so bright! And they couldn’t _feel her, hug her,_ she didn’t even know they were there-

{Ghost.}

They snapped out of the personless mess of thought they were ensnared in. Their siblings looked on worriedly, tendrils of self reaching for them shakily, as if unsure. Would their comfort help or harm? 

Instead, Vessel pointed again to their sister, who was brandishing her needle at the Seeker. They both knew she was going to attack the man’s desk before she even did so, and almost thoughtlessly they called out in their silent Void-tongue to  _ not be afraid, this was family. She meant no harm. _

And shockingly, the man with their deadly sister’s nail mere inches from his mask, he… 

He  _ calmed.  _

However dimly, however unwittingly, he had heard them.

They both looked to each other, in complete agreement for once, and they turned frantic voices and pleas to their sister’s hopefully-not-deaf ears. 

~~ Hope. It was a dangerous thing. ~~

_ (Sister! Sister we need you needyourhelp Sister!) _

_ {Sister please sister hear us. Hear me, you’ve always known I was in here among the hollow but you never could hear me when I called to you, ohplease night please hear me now,} _

And their infinite siblings, more coherent than they, through and in-between the two knights' meshed-together screams, they pressed a gift in the form of an idea out towards the bugs of the outside world.

 

_ To find us,  _

_ descend,  _

_ descend, _

 

_ descend. _

 

_ Found in the place of our birth is our rebirth. _

_ dearest sister to us and our siblings,  _

 

_ descend. _


	5. winks in the dark

There was something that the little Ghost used to do when they were… _alive_ that kept racing through Hornet’s mind. She remembered something about a little shop in the center of the old City, close to the statue of their sibling. After she’d seen the little one enter the place a few times, she had peered in through a window of the place, just to see what they were doing – she didn’t remember there being a Nailsmith or Charm Priest or a Shaman or anyone else like that in that corner.

At the time she would never have admitted that she checked up because she was worried about them, but now that truth hung heavy in her gut and threatened to flood her eyes. She couldn’t think about that now, though.

But no, what she had seen through the window that day were artifacts, artifacts on artifacts, things at least as old as her and some that were even more ancient. The little one helping to catalogue the kingdom’s past, though for genuine concern for culture or merely for Geo she never asked.

And if the bug had anything older than Hallownest, anything from the days of Void then, well… he might know something. Or he might have something that could tell her something, _anything,_ about what may have happened to her sibling. The Pale King had no idea what he was tampering with when he made her siblings, but maybe the ancient civilizations of before had an idea of how things worked.

Doubtful. It was a long shot. And she had no idea why she even thought this Seeker may have anything _like_ that, she just… had a feeling.

But _maybe._ Maybe he did, and maybe it would help. And right now that was all she needed. She had no idea where Pure might have gone, and she _refused_ to believe that they were dead, so. This was all she could do at the moment.

Shaken out of her thoughts, she was almost surprised to find herself already at the shopkeeper’s door.

Huffing, she shouldered her way inside.

* * *

 

“How much information for this, the crest of the Heiress of Deepnest?”

She breathed heavily in the wake of her tirade, the bright mask-crest glimmering under the lumafly lamps.

“Uh,” the man seemed more alarmed _now_ than he had when she had had a needle impaled in his desk. “What.”

“You heard me,” she let out a chittering snarl. The crest lay gleaming on the desk, almost winking, and she resisted the urge to glare at it. “This… thing is just a relic of a kingdom long past now, anyway.”

She remembered when her mother gave her that clasp, when she was still _alive_ and _awake_ to do so. She remembered that it was really the only thing that she had left of her.

But then she remembered Ghost’s shattered mask, and the Vessel’s suffering for so long to just _disappear._ She couldn’t just fail her two siblings now; not after a lifetime of failing to protect either of them. Not now, not again.

“No, no, you misunderstand me,” Lemm sniffed. “I have seen this crest only a few times, most being the mark of the Beast herself, in Dreamer monuments and documents. But this… This is ancient. If it is truly yours, then _you_ are ancient. I don’t see why you’d need anything from me.”

“You have items here that predate me and this kingdom. I need to see them.”

Lemm started. “The Eggs? I’m sorry lady, but no matter how intimidating or ancient you are I can’t just let _anyone_ touch these things. We’re frankly lucky the little knight didn’t damage them on the way up from wherever it is they find these things.”

At the mention of the ‘little knight’, a feral growl began somewhere deep within her.

“Do not–” she stopped, trying to keep the rumble from her voice. “Do _not_ insult their memory like this, archivist.”

Lemm stopped.

“...Memory?”

“My sibling gave their life to the lie that is Hallownest’s perpetuation, all to save its few remaining citizens and our sibling from a life of prolonged fear and agony. Now our sibling is missing. I have lost one sibling in the last day, Seeker. I will not allow it to be two.”

The man paused. Stayed silent for a while in the wake of this warrior’s grief. He could see the fire fueled by shattering composure, fleeting little memories tearing her from the inside.

He knew how _that_ felt. Who didn’t, in this day and age? He looked down to the artifact she’d tried to sacrifice in her most-likely-futile search for lost-probably-dead kin.

~~He hadn't even known the little knight had had a family, and he didn’t know who this other sibling was, but, well. What kind of friend would he be if he didn’t help out in this moment?~~

“Keep your trinket, kid.” he muttered, flipping it back to her, who caught it with widening eyes.

He grabbed the Arcane Eggs from where he kept them up on the top shelf, all four. This was more important than showing off to his fellow Seekers, after all. Sighing sharply, he thrust them into her arms.

Her eyes seemed to glaze slightly, her posture relaxing until she seemed to realize it; immediately, she tensed again.

“Here. Take ‘em. What do I need ‘em for anyway.”

“I– you do not want any information for your trouble? No items?”

“Get out before I change my mind. Maybe swing by sometime and tell me stories of this old place. Word of mouth from an old citizen would be instrumentally helpful.”

But before the last words were even out of his mouth, she was gone, the Eggs left on his desk.

“Hey– hey! Where are you going?!”

But there was no answer. She had already gone.

 

The Eggs almost felt chilled and shivering with energy when he placed them back up on the shelf.


	6. he(a)r(e)

The whole of them sang with excitement, buzzing hums and whispering melodies rising and falling with their thoughts.

_ She’s coming! She heard us! She’s coming! _

...The whole of them, that is, minus two.

{She heard us…} Pure murmured softly, slowly.

(She did.) the Knight replied, wanting to be as excited as the rest, but wary. Pure was… dripping caution, at this moment, when even Ghost had thought they would maybe calm down, allow themself their minds’ rest.

{Soon, she will…  _ see  _ us.}

(Yes.)

{And that is even least of our problems. With conduits she can glean  _ some  _ whisper from void. But as you and I well know, she cannot hear us. At least not on our own.}

(We will work that out when we get to that point.)

They paused. Reached out with a thread of comfort. 

(What is your real point?)

{...I am nervous.}

(I had gathered that much.)

They were startled out of their conversational stupor by the sound of needle against stone, at first methodical and then frustrated, battle shouts sounding muffled even with their echoes against the cavern walls.

They flinched, guided by Pure’s full body shudder within them.

(She cannot reach us without our help, sibling.)

{...Yes.}

_ (I  _ cannot do this without your help, sibling.)

{Yes…}

And together, all of them reached, pooled, congealed into a form more buglike than before, which was… not saying much, as they now seemed to encompass the entirety of the Void sea.

(Just as before…) Ghost thought with bemusement, before they were cut off by their clutchmate. 

{No… Before there was no  _ us. _ Only Us.} Their voice rang with the implication of  _ together, one, not separate. Not cut apart and breathed into. _

But by then, they were almost corporeal; almost. As close as they could get. And they seeped to the side and up, not through the impenetrable ceiling of the Abyss, no, but up through the maze two siblings had raced through to survive all those centuries upon centuries ago.

They clung to the edge, as they had then, but this time only because their form was long and dripping, longing to be reunited with its ocean once more. They cursed, thinking of their shattered mask, how it used to keep them together, before realizing such a trifle would be futile anyway  — though strong through their mother and… ugh,  _ father’s  _ ingenuity, the thing had been pathetically tiny even when it had been big enough to suit them. 

They reached within themselves for their storage-place, finding the way even through the twists and turns that now accompanied being just one part of thousands, and they slipped the puny King’s Brand into their hand. The ceiling and walls here glowed just as subtly and as powerfully as the ceiling above the sea, and those purely of void could not get out, not on their own. Not without a lot of time, they conceded when their siblings began to huff, as their power was ever-growing now and would soon surpass that of even their father’s.

But they had the key, so it was all moot anyway, really.

And they heard Hornet’s desperate cries and her needle frantically chipping at the stone, and Pure shoved down their nerves and before-stage panic, and they shoved the Brand towards the door.

Hornet tumbled into the room, and almost over the ledge, but several of their selves congealed and caught her, lifting her gently back up to solid ground. She shivered, looking up at them with something like awe {and maybe disgust…} 

(No.)

They blinked their eyes in a slow, eightfold ripple. Now is the moment of truth. Tentatively, they reached out, whispering as loud as they dared; not that they could break their accursed (comforting) silence, anyway.

_ Hornet? _

She continued to stare them down, and they deflated. They should’ve known that the incident with the Eggs was a one-time chance. 

Then she popped her mask off slightly, blinking her own eight eyes at her sibling slowly, grinning and huffing one almost-hysterical giggle. 

“We match now,” she murmured, staying quiet in the presence of the oppressive atmosphere of the Abyss, the floor of which she knew was covered with her siblings’ broken shells. Breaking the silence now felt… blasphemous, somehow.

They blinked all of their eyes at once (surprise, Hornet knew, felt a lot like that on her own face), then bobbed once, twice in full-body relieved laughter. She couldn’t  _ hear  _ but she had seen Ghost laugh before — rarely, oh so rarely — and with Pure it had been slightly less guarded, once, long ago. It would only surface when it was just the two of them, lest they slip and reveal the presence of their spirit to their  _ light _ awful father, but when it  _ was  _ just the two, well. It wasn’t  _ often,  _ per se, but it wasn’t a rarity. Hornet used to strive to see that light behind their eyes. 

~~ She  _ refused  _ to get choked up about Ghost now. This was Pure. This was a victory, however bittersweet. ~~

They twitched towards her once, as if considering something, before tentatively tapping their foreheads together, a gesture they used to share in childhood when one was especially scared or hurt, be it from sparring, a fit from their father, a threat from the Beast to not bring Hornet back (which would have been fine by Hornet if it weren’t for the fact that she could see Pure nowhere else but the castle), and—

And then it wasn’t silent anymore.

(See, look, I  _ told  _ you it would be fine. She recognized us just as well,)

{You don’t  _ know  _ that, for all we know she could just think it is you!}

(Or likewise about you, sibling, but still this is miles better than the poison-webs you were thinking yourself into—)

{And can you blame me?}

_ Calm. Calm. This is getting us nowhere. Calm, she is right there, we cannot get and be lost in ourselves, _

“Oh gods.” She breathed, feeling her knees tremble with weakness. They  _ mrred  _ in concern, a sound she recognized from her younger days when she allowed herself outward shows of emotion, but.

It hadn’t stopped being  _ quiet,  _ though, and nothing echoed, and she wasn’t hearing this, she slowly realized.

It was coming from inside her head.

_ [No voice to cry suffering, _ that was the phrase, right, father?] she shook her head, spitting at the memory.

They blinked again in surprise. Hesitantly, they reached a dripping arm towards her, but quickly they stilled it, bringing it back to its place holding them up on the platform.

(Well, to be fair, he _was_ quite stupid.)

_ {Ghost!}  _ Pure sighed sharply, once, the way  _ she  _ did when she was exasperated, because of  _ course  _ they would share speech tics if only one could  _ hear them. _

 

And Ghost was _ alive. _

 

They  _ all  _ were, if the humming of thousands she now heard was telling.

 

(Sister?} They asked, imprinting their concern  _ cautious-hope  _ into her very soul, cocking their head slightly to the side.

She grinned so widely her face was candidate to split in half.

 

“I am here now.

 

I hear you.”


End file.
